


Watching the Water

by telemachus



Series: Rising-verse [34]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Animals, Elflings, Fluff, M/M, elflings are cute, elves dont like spiders, ithilien has a lot of animals, wood elves dont travel much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 11:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1817527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/pseuds/telemachus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another sunny day in Ithilien. All is well.........or is it........what is in the water.....?</p><p> </p><p>another fluffy story, for my son, inspired by a game of Pictionary, in which we discovered that - I really, really can't draw this creature.......</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching the Water

“ – Gimli, but – iel-nin? What is it?” and he breaks into a stream of bloody Elvish.

Probably a good thing. No sodding idea what he was talking about. Haven’t been listening for a while.

It`s sunny.

Warm.

His voice is – like all these sodding elves – melodic. It’s a bit easy for this dwarf to drift off. Especially when my daft elf kept me awake half last night. 

Not looking at stars.

The little one – Tegylwen – changes seamlessly back to a sensible language, glancing at me. Her father must have told her to – I know she is still a bit – unsure. He never forgets how poor my Sindarin is. And I never forgive him for knowing.

“Something big – in the water,” she is out of breath, don’t often see an elf out of breath, even the little ones, “Legolas’ not sure. Legolas says come – ask you. Taithel fell in. Big water-spider.”

What?

But suddenly Caradhil is reacting – and I have not seen him like this before. Suddenly I see that he did indeed teach my elf all he knows of battle – and command.

“Who else is there?” he asks and as the child stumbles over words, he turns to me, “Come. Now. Eru only knows what it is.”

I follow him to the riverbank where – yes – my daft Legolas is supposed to be watching a group of young elflings fishing. He has had the sense to gather them away, and they are all peering intently at the – whatever it is. But the elfling – is still in the water. 

“Look at me swimming!!” he squeaks – it is a squeak, he is very small – I am always surprised how early they talk. Then he sees his father, “Look at me swimming, Ada!!”

His father is not amused.

“Ion-nin, daro! Nev-si! Taithel!” and the last word is a – growl. It promises, if I am not mistaken, severe trouble if the child does not obey. 

Although knowing Caradhil, that will mean very, very little. A glare. A short tale at bedtime. A talking-to perhaps, in that ‘I am disappointed’ voice. 

Nothing more. He is not capable of anything more, not to an elfling. Particularly not to his elflings.

He does not need to be.

Instantly it seems, such are the wonders of elves, Taithel is out of the water, and in his father’s arms. Ear-touching, reassurance, and so on.

“Did you see me swimming? That swimming – Tegy-wen, did you see me swimming? Le-las, did you see me swimming? Did you? Pretty Le-las see me swimming? Gim-i see me swimming?”

And yes, of course, everyone saw you swimming, what a clever elfling. Endears himself to me everytime, the way he can’t say names. And the way my Legolas winces everytime he calls him ‘pretty Le-las’. 

“Off you go, iel-nin, take him to find Naneth, get dry,” and as they trot off, happy enough, he full of his swim, she of importance at the responsibility, Caradhil turns to my Legolas, and his face changes, “Sweet Elbereth, Legolas, what are you playing at? That is my son, my elfling. What the fuck do you mean by letting him in the water when there is some strange spider in there?”

He colours, ashamed, but, I notice, he is relieved to see us – one of us.

“Caradhil,” he says helplessly, and his eyes are not on me. I don’t like that. “I told him – I told him to get out – I would have got him if it had come closer – I promise you – I would not let your elfling be hurt – see, my bow is here – but I – I do not know what this is. It – it seems – large – but – but I – I would not hurt it without need. Yet – is it a spider, as Tegylwen says?”

Oh my daft sodding elf, I think, you trust a child over your own judgement? 

I suppose the child is Caradhil’s daughter. 

Actually, she is very like her father. She probably has a lot more sense than my elf. I am just surprised she did not get her brother out of the water. But – what do I know of siblings? Any other elf would obey her, I think, but – perhaps not her little brother.

Caradhil continues to glare at my elf for a moment, then shakes himself, and looks out to the river. Legolas looks hopelessly at him, and I see the hurt in his face. Oh Caradhil, I think, you are going to have a most pathetically apologetic prince to deal with later. And on this occasion, I think you are in the right of it, however little I like to admit it. He should have got your elfling out.

I suppose he does not know much about elflings, nor parental love. 

My gaze follows theirs, but whatever it is, it is too far out in the water for any but elf eyes. Caradhil twitches his nose. A sure sign of consternation.

“I do not know for sure. But – I do not like the look of it.” He hesitates, then deciding, “Shoot it, my prince. Whatever it is, there was never a spider yet that didn’t roast well.”

Bloody weird elves.

And before my thought is finished, there is an arrow above my head and – the whatever it was is skewered and floating to the surface. The elflings are keen to swim for it, having no reason to fear. The elves – years of caution learnt in that miserable forest – forbid them. Where there is one, there may be others. A line is attached to a second arrow, and the – whatever it is – drawn in.

Once landed it is surrounded by chattering elves. I am not needed. I wait, patiently folding my arms.

He comes to me, bringing this – prize.

“Caradhil is right,” he sighs, “we will have to ask Faramir’s men if they know aught of this creature.”

I look at it and laugh. 

Should have guessed, but I have only heard of them in salt water. 

“No need,” I say, “no need to humble yourselves to Men, my fine elves. Caradhil is right about one thing though. They do roast well. I have seen them before. Dried. They make good travellers’ food.” And I can’t help laugh at their expressions, “Have you never heard tell of them? Not a water spider, quite harmless. It’s a sodding octopus.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, Taithel still can't talk properly........and he is (slightly) beginning to resemble Roo........
> 
> only justification - woodelves don't like going near the Sea, but Gimli is a "dwarf of many journeys", so he says.....
> 
> Daro - stop  
> Nev-si - come here  
> (as ever, I think the sindarin is ok, but would be grateful for (polite!) corrections)


End file.
